


Rota Fortunæ

by NoelleZingarella



Series: Unstoppable Force/Immovable Object [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, Gen, Magic, School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 00:10:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18839641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelleZingarella/pseuds/NoelleZingarella
Summary: Cassandra Borgin was determined to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts, whatever it took. But what will Headmistress Umbridge and Professor Snape say when they discover a Slytherin in Dumbledore’s Army learning from Harry Potter?This Missing Moment takes place between chapters 18 and 19 of my novel Moonlight.Written for Finefrenzy_’s “The Slytherin-Centric Challenge”





	Rota Fortunæ

I know that Aunt Electra was mad as a hatter, but I am glad that she taught me to play the piano. I’ve found it to be a very useful skill during my time here at Hogwarts. You see, I’m not very pretty and I’m not very clever. I am a pure-blood, of course, but otherwise I’m quite average. It seems to me that everyone in Slytherin house is jockeying for position all the time, and I’d rather stay out of the fray. So, I sit over here in the common room, playing the piano while everyone else studies and talks and laughs. They’re so used to me by now that I overhear the most interesting things. Everyone assumes that I don’t pay attention to what’s going on around me when I’m playing. And if I’m hearing something I’d rather not—well, I can always play a little louder, can’t I?

 

 

 

Playing the piano has won me a bit of respect, too. I know a decent amount of classical repertoire, but I also know popular tunes and dances. There’s a reason that everyone in Slytherin house could dance so well at the Yule Ball last year. The older students have been teaching the younger ones since I first started school here and everyone appreciated having live music to practice with. I think the idea of Professor Snape coming in to teach us terrified everyone, so we made sure that we wouldn’t have to bother him with something we could take care of ourselves. He likes it when we manage things ourselves.

 

 

 

It was Sunday evening and the common room was full of my lethargic housemates. Everyone was trying to deny the fact that we had classes the next morning. It had been, well, an eventful time at school to say the least. The discovery of Dumbledore’s Army, followed by Dumbledore’s escaping arrest, followed by the installing of Headmistress Umbridge, followed by the chaos of Fred and George Weasley’s escape from Hogwarts—and we fifth years still had O.W.L.s to study for. It was a wonder that anyone could concentrate at all.

 

 

 

I was halfway through _Rondo alla Turca_ when Pansy Parkinson walked up behind me and set a note on the piano. I could tell from the cramped handwriting that it was from Professor Snape, even though it only said my name, Cassandra Borgin, on the outside of it. And I already knew what it was going to be about. I already knew that I was going to be expelled.

 

 

 

As I hit the off-set octave section of the _Rondo_ , I played as loudly as I could. Pansy’s voice was pitched annoyingly high as she informed everyone in the common room that I was in trouble. I fairly pounded on the keys through the fanfare at the end of the piece, striking them so hard that my fingers hurt. I knew I shouldn’t care what Pansy said. I knew she’d already told everyone anyway. After all, she was there when the D. A. meeting broke up that night. I had managed to slip away, but Headmistress Umbridge had the list of the members and my name was on it.

 

 

 

I finished banging, snatched my note, and shot off the piano bench, hoping to escape from the common room. I thought it was reasonable to want to open the thing and endure my shame in private. But Pansy and Millicent were there, blocking my path. I have never hated being short so much as I did in that moment. I briefly considered trying to dart between their legs to escape, but thought better of it. Millicent would probably sit on me if I tried, and then I would be expelled AND dead.

 

 

 

“Open it here, Cassie,” Pansy said with a cat-like grin. “We all want to know what the punishment for treason is.”

 

 

 

I glared at her, but I opened the note. I knew they would wrestle it away from me if I didn’t.

 

 

 

 

_Miss Borgin,_

 

_I expect you in my office at six o’clock Monday evening._

 

_—Professor Snape_

 

 

 

 

“It just says I have to go to Professor Snape’s office tomorrow evening. Nothing exciting,” I said, trying to move past them.

 

 

 

They stayed where they were and Pansy taunted, “You’d better pack your little trunk tonight so that you won’t have to show your face back here after you’re expelled.”

 

 

 

I tried to look as though I wasn’t worried. “Then how would I be able to tell you what the punishment for treason is?”

 

 

 

She seemed mildly confused by that and I took the opportunity to slip past her and away to the dormitory. Maybe she was right. Maybe I should pack.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It hadn’t been easy for me to convince Harry Potter and his friends to let me join the the D. A. I wouldn’t have known anything about it except that I happened to overhear Marietta and Cho talking about it as they came out of the Hog’s Head that day back in October. They didn’t notice me following them and I heard enough to realize that Harry Potter was starting a secret club to practice Defense Against the Dark Arts. I was sick of Professor Umbridge’s classes by then and the fact that we weren’t learning anything in them. I knew that Draco, Pansy and most of Slytherin house was sucking up to her, but I thought it was stupid that she refused to teach us anything. I mean, even if she just gave private lessons to Slytherins that would have been something. But we were being kept just as ignorant as everyone else, and I couldn’t stand it. Uncle Orestes was holding a job for me in his shop in Knockturn Alley, and I knew he wouldn’t like it if I didn’t do well on my O.W.L.s. And how was I supposed to do well if no one would teach me?

 

 

 

I also thought it was stupid of Draco and his friends to alienate Harry Potter and Gryffindor house, although I made sure to keep such thoughts to myself. Draco had been doing it since day one. It seemed now that Slytherins were in the ascendancy, but that wouldn’t always be the case. No matter how secure your power seems, eventually the wheel will turn and you’ll be on the bottom again. And you can be sure that your enemies will remember every slight you ever did them and pay you back when that happens. Better to maintain a cordial relationship with everyone as much as possible. Then they won’t notice what you do behind their backs. But maybe that’s just the apprentice shopkeeper in me.

 

 

 

 

I approached Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the library one Tuesday not long after that Hogsmeade trip. They didn’t remember my name and I saw them all exchange an unhappy look when they saw my Slytherin colors.

 

 

 

“Hello,” I said. “I’m Cassandra Borgin.”

 

 

 

“Wait, as in Borgin and Burkes?” Harry interrupted.

 

 

 

“Yes. Mr. Borgin is my uncle.” I swallowed hard as they frowned at me, clearly wishing I would leave. I decided it was best to cut to the chase. “Listen, I know there’s a lot of bad blood between our houses, but I want you to know we don’t all agree with Draco Malfoy on everything.” I smiled at Harry and added, “I think you were just brilliant last year in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.” He shifted uncomfortably and I rushed onwards before they told me to scram. “The thing is, I want to join your secret club.”

 

 

 

Their eyes widened and Harry said cooly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

 

 

I expected this. “You can put whatever jinx on me you think necessary. I’ll even take the Unbreakable Vow that I won’t reveal any of the secrets if you want me to. I just want to learn this. I need to learn this and you’re the only one who can teach us right now.”

 

 

 

The golden trio exchanged a look and Hermione said, “We’ll think about it and let you know.”

 

 

 

I nodded. That was probably the best I could hope for at that point. It took a few more weeks, but I wore them down and the let me join. And, when they did, they didn’t ask me to do anything more than sign that jinxed parchment.

 

 

 

The D. A. meetings had been brilliant. We were working together, learning together without any teachers at all. It felt so liberating, to take matters into our own hands in that way. After a while, the fact that I was a Slytherin didn’t bother anyone in the D. A. anymore. I was one of the secret group—learning even when the teachers refused to teach us. But, when we were caught, Headmistress Umbridge certainly remembered that I was a Slytherin. And Professor Snape obviously remembered too.

 

 

 

I sighed and decided I would hedge my bet and pack half of my trunk. Part of me still hoped that I would be allowed to stay, but if my trunk were half packed then it wouldn’t take me very long to escape if I were expelled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My hands were sweating the next day as I approached Professor Snape’s office. I was trying to put on a brave face. We all knew he hated it when members of his house acted like sniveling cowards in front of him. He was fair to us, most of the time, but he expected a certain amount of decorum, too. If he saw me shaking or worse—crying—he’d have me on the train home tonight. I had to keep myself under control.

 

 

 

I reached the door and my hand only shook a little bit as I knocked on it. The door swung open and I saw Professor Snape standing by a shelf, eyeing a jar of bat skulls. I took a deep breath and walked into the office. The door slammed shut behind me and I stood there awkwardly in the dim light.

 

 

 

“Sit down, Miss Borgin,” he said quietly.

 

 

 

I climbed into the chair across from his desk. I had to perch on the edge of it and still my feet barely touched the ground. As much as I had hated being short the day before, I think I hated it a lot more today. I felt like a little kid about to be read the riot act by my father. Except that Professor Snape was a lot scarier than my father.

 

 

 

“You are, of course, aware of the reason I have called you here,” he said, still not looking at me.

 

 

 

“Yes, sir,” I muttered, my eyes on the ground.

 

 

 

“Speak clearly, Miss Borgin,” he snapped as he stalked to his desk. He sat down at it and stared at me with that look that made everyone think he could read their minds.

 

 

 

“Yes, sir!” I repeated. My voice cracked a bit, but at least it was loud enough to hear this time. He said nothing, just kept staring at me over his steepled fingers. Finally I added miserably, “You want to know why my name was on the D. A. list, sir.”

 

 

 

“Very good, Miss Borgin.” How could his voice be so quiet and so frightening at the same time? “I find it most disturbing that a member of my house was involved with such nonsense.”

 

 

 

I gulped. I had hoped that I could convince him to at least let me take my O.W.L.s. I thought that would be enough for Uncle Orestes. But the way Professor Snape was staring at me, I knew I was done for.

 

 

 

“If you have some sort of an explanation, now would be a good time to give it,” he said lazily.

 

 

 

I’d been dreading this meeting ever since the D. A. was broken up that night two weeks earlier. Now that I was actually here and about to be expelled, I felt a sudden surge of courage. After all, if I was going to be expelled, it didn’t matter so much what I said. Maybe I should just be honest.

 

 

 

“Well, sir, I….I wanted to learn,” I said slowly. “That’s why I came to school, after all.”

 

 

 

“You are aware that you have been provided with teachers and classes for that purpose.”

 

 

 

I flinched. “Of course, sir, that goes without saying. It’s just that….well…..our DADA classes weren’t terribly helpful this year. Not that I blame Headmistress Umbridge at all.” I was starting to feel very exposed and my voice trailed off as he raised an eyebrow at me. But, in for a knut, in for a galleon. “It’s just, well, Harry Potter was the only one offering us an option to be ready for our O.W.L. practical, and I wanted to do well. You see, I’m going to work with Uncle Orestes in his shop when I’m finished with school, but he won’t take me if I don’t do well on my O.W.L.s, especially the DADA one.”

 

 

 

“You seem oddly confident that you will be here to take your O.W.L.s.”

 

 

 

“I didn’t mean to assume, sir.” My eyes dropped back to the floor and I could feel his cold stare boring into the top of my head. He was silent for so long, that I just started talking again. “I know that Harry Potter is an arrogant prat, but he knows his Defense. I wanted to learn, so I took the option that was available to me. I know it was against the rules, but I’d do it again if I were faced with the same choice. I’ve always thought it was a bad idea for Draco and his friends to be so openly antagonistic to Harry and his friends. We’re all just students and making enemies when you don’t absolutely have to seems like a bad idea to me. I know we’re on top now, but someday we might not be.”

 

 

 

I suddenly realized that Professor Snape’s stare had become more of a glare. I had obviously said something very wrong.

 

 

“But that’s just my opinion, sir. I’m probably wrong,” I finished lamely.

 

 

 

“And what did _Potter_ teach you?” He spat out the name Potter as though it tasted vile.

 

 

 

I wracked my brain, trying to figure out the right answer to this question. This was my last chance to prove that I was justified in my actions. My last chance to stay at Hogwarts. I had to think of just the right thing, but what was it?

 

 

 

I lifted my eyes from the floor, trying to get a hint from him. His face was as stony and unreadable as a statue’s. I chewed on my lips, desperately thinking. And then, suddenly, it came to me.

 

 

 

“May I just show you, sir?” I asked humbly.

 

 

 

“Very well,” he said, his tone implying that he did not expect to be impressed.

 

 

 

I got up slowly and took out my wand. I closed my eyes and imagined the summer sun on my face. I was in a field of flowers with Aunt Electra. We were weaving daisy chains and she was sending them careening through the air like flowery eels. We were laughing and shouting and we hadn’t a care in the world.

 

 

 

A wide smile spread across my face and I shouted, “ _Expecto Patronum_!”

 

 

 

A silvery robin flew gracefully out of the tip of my wand. She circled around the room a few times and disappeared through the door. I watched her, smiling proudly. Maybe it wouldn’t matter to Uncle Orestes if I wasn’t allowed to take my O.W.L.s. I could still study after all. There were accomplished witches and wizards in my family—I could always learn from them. And I could read, couldn’t I?

 

 

 

After my robin _patronus_ flew away, I turned back to Professor Snape. He was giving me a calculating look. His hand was in front of his mouth, but I thought it was possible that he was smirking. It was a look I had seen him give Draco and Pansy many times when they had done something clever. It was a look he had never given me.

 

 

 

“Sit down, Miss Borgin,” he said and whatever smile might have been there was gone.

 

 

 

I sat and waited for my sentence. He was silent again for a long time. I assumed he was doing it to make me nervous. He had probably made up his mind about my punishment before I had even set foot in his office today. I guess I should have packed after all.

 

 

 

“I believe that detention on Fridays and Saturdays for the rest of term are called for in this instance. You will report to the potions room at six o’clock in the evenings and juice flobberworms.”

 

 

 

I blinked. Did this mean I was going to stay?

 

 

 

“Yes sir,” I said hopefully.

 

 

 

“And I expect an Outstanding in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

 

 

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

 

 

“You may go, Miss Borgin.”

 

 

 

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

 

 

 

I stood, feeling as light as air, feeling like my robin flying through the sky. I almost skipped to the door, I was so relieved. But I knew that Professor Snape might change his mind and expel me after all if I did that, so I restrained myself.

 

 

 

When I reached the door, I paused and turned back to him.

 

 

 

“Sir, there was something I have been meaning to ask you, if it wouldn’t be too much of a bother.”

 

 

 

“What is it?”

 

 

 

“Sir, I was just wondering, why are some magics called dark magic at all? It seems to me that any spell could be dark or light, depending on how you used it. If I transfigured someone into a mouse and let a cat eat him, that would be dark, wouldn’t it? But transfiguration isn’t considered dark magic. Or what if I used _Petrificus_ _Totalus_ on someone when he was crossing the street and he were hit by a Muggle car? Wouldn’t that be dark magic? Or what if a Healer used _Imperio_ to force an unconscious patient to take a potion he needed. Wouldn’t that be light magic then? I just don’t understand how these distinctions are made. It seems to me that anything could be light or dark—it just depends on how you use it.”

 

 

 

He gave me that calculating look again—and this time I could see his smirk.

 

 

 

“My thoughts exactly, Miss Borgin,” he said.

 

 

 

“Thank you, sir. Good night, sir.”

 

 

 

I was about to open the door when he added, “Miss Borgin?”

 

 

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

 

 

“The next time you decide to take matters into your own hands, see to it that you do so without being caught.”

 

 

 

I smiled. “Yes, sir.”

 

 

 

I went out into the hallway and saw my robin still circling. I was able to watch it for a few seconds before it disappeared completely. Then I headed back to my part of the dungeons, skipping and humming _Rondo alla Turca_ all the way.

**Author's Note:**

> I take my hat off to Mr. Zingarella, who betaed this story. He also occupied the little Zingarellas while I banged out the draft of it. And it was a conversation we had a while ago in which he expressed his opinion that dark magic in the HP universe didn’t seem very different from light magic in the HP universe that sparked my idea for this story in the first place. I’m a lucky lady to have him.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Rondo alla Turca is the third movement of Piano Sonata No. 11 in A-Major by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
> 
>  
> 
> This story takes place between chapters 18 and 19 of my novel Moonlight:
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18431546/chapters/43659938


End file.
